


Meet the Family

by stepantrofimovic



Series: Fidelis et Fortis [4]
Category: The Musketeers (2014), d'Artagnan Romances (Three Musketeers Series) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, just that basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 06:31:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9372404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stepantrofimovic/pseuds/stepantrofimovic
Summary: "Élodie is here with Porthos and M.-C. -- you still all right with coming over?"It's not what Jean was planning, not at all. (It still goes fine.)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Long Overdue](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9249863) by [stepantrofimovic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stepantrofimovic/pseuds/stepantrofimovic). 



> A very short sequel to Long Overdue, because bean teased me with Armand's perspective and I fell for it.

Prime Minister Richelieu is sitting in the living room in Jean’s apartment, reflecting on how exactly he came to be there.

No, scratch that. Armand is sitting in the living room in Jean’s apartment, reflecting on how he came to be there and slowly coming to grips with the fact that he is exactly where he wants to be.

A woman’s voice drifts in from the kitchen, distracting him from his thoughts. “Marie! I said, leave Tonton Jean’s beard alone!”

Armand lets himself smile. He’s been introduced to little Marie-Cessette just a few minutes before, and he already has a pretty accurate idea of how stubborn the child can be when she wants something. He can only imagine what Jean must be putting up with right now.

Before he’s realized it, he’s resting his fingers on his own lips, mapping the smile there. (If he’s also remembering the feeling of Jean’s quick welcome kiss as he opened the door for him, so what.) It still unsettles him a little, the surprise every time he realizes just how happy he is.

He knows this is not what Jean was planning, of course. He’s been organizing a big dinner for next Tuesday, with the express purpose of introducing Richelieu to everyone. His whole group of _friends_. Armand would be lying if he said he wasn’t terrified.

Today, however, Armand has managed to free himself from one of his meetings and reschedule everything else just so he could come to Jean’s for the evening. It’s the sort of situation that he can’t hope will happen often, not to someone in his position, but that doesn’t make it any less of a pleasant surprise when it does. He’d texted Jean as soon as he'd been sure that he was actually going to make it.

_looks like I’m free tonight. dinner at your place?_

_Of course._

When his phone chimed again with a text from Jean, about half an hour later, the way Armand’s stomach clenched reminded him of how many doubts he still had about this – this thing. It didn’t matter how many conversations he and Jean had about what had happened all those years ago, or how well Armand’s cats were warming up to Jean’s frequent visits in the past couple of weeks. He was still going to assume that Jean would find some unforgiveable fault in him at some point. Soon. That he would mess up.

 _Perhaps I shouldn’t have imposed_ , he’d thought, unlocking his phone’s screen. _Perhaps he has plans._

Funny how he could always find his footing around matter of State and then feel like walking on thin ice all the time with Jean.

 _Élodie is here with Porthos and M.-C. -- you still all right with coming over?_ , Jean’s text read.

He considered his answer for a couple of minutes, his thumbs hovering over the keyboard, but in the end, he didn’t really have any doubts.

Apparently, his doubts about Jean only extended to the moments when Jean was not with him, in person or not.

_sure, if you don’t mind_

_=)_

So, that had been it. As soon as he’d arrived at Jean’s apartment, he’d been quickly introduced to Porthos (who was, to be honest, a rather impressive man, especially when he was glaring at Armand) and his wife (who was about as terrifying as her husband, but maybe Armand was being a little insecure there), before everyone refocused on their little girl, Marie-Cessette, who apparently enjoyed being the centre of attention. A lot. Armand wouldn’t have dreamed to challenge that, of course.

And that’s how he ended up here, listening to people moving about in the kitchen and feeling his chest swell up with that peculiar feeling he always has when he’s around Jean. Just the thought that Jean – kind-hearted, proud, stubborn, _beautiful_ Jean – wants him to be, well, around, is enough for him to feel like that.

 _Happy._ The word he’s looking for is _happy_. (And blessed and in love, maybe, but that’s a thought for another time.)

And now he’s smiling again. As he raises his head, he finds his own expression mirrored in Jean’s. He’s just walked in from the kitchen, little Marie-Cessette held snugly and safely against his hip. From the look on Jean’s face, she’s becoming a little too heavy to be held this way, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to refuse her any time she asks.

Shaking his head against the thought of how well he can still read his Jean, Armand stands up and moves to meet him halfway for a quick kiss. Then he winces, realizing that he didn’t think of checking whether it was okay to do that in front of the kid.

Jean’s fond smirk quickly takes all doubts away from him. “I hope you don’t mind the change in plans. I couldn’t say no to them,” he adds, with a quick nod towards the kitchen. Armand hears, _I would never want to_ , and smiles back.

 _Of course it’s all right_ , he wants to say. _I wouldn’t think of imposing on your friends._ A quip about the exact kind of plans he had for tonight, maybe. He’s sure Jean would appreciate that. (Then again, _three-year-old_. He really needs to be more careful.)

What comes out instead is, “It’s okay. They’re family.”

He’s never seen Jean’s face light up the way it does now. He hides his laughter against Armand’s shoulder, Marie-Cessette pressing into Armand’s side until he’s forced to catch a little of her weight with his left arm. She’s not even squirming, instead looking up at them with wide, blue eyes she clearly took from her mother.

Armand is vaguely worried that his heart might burst just from the happiness of being _here, now_.

“Are you ready for dinner?” Jean teases, a chuckle still in his voice, as he pulls back a little. Or, rather, he tries to, because Marie-Cessette is now clinging to one of the lapels of Armand’s jacket. Giving up, Jean slides his hand into Armand’s free one, lacing their fingers together.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, you can find me [here](http://stepantrofimovic.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr if you ever want to have a look.


End file.
